


All My Favorite Tropes

by Monarch0Interstate



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Accidental Stimulation, Astronomy Symbolism, Bottom GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Cologne, Cute, Degrading kink, Dirty Talk, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hands, Height Differences, Hoodies, M/M, Marking, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Pet Names, Possessive Sex, Praise Kink, Protective Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Protective GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Scent Kink, Scents & Smells, Size Difference, Size Kink, Smut, Tags May Change, Teasing, Top Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:08:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29364510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monarch0Interstate/pseuds/Monarch0Interstate
Summary: “You flatter me Dream.” George ran a finger over his friend’s freckles, half-lidded eyes tracing honeyed lines between each dot. He imagined himself as the moon, centered in Dream's map with the aurous stars befalling him. He could scoop them in his reflective hands and practically feel their warmth."You don't even know how I feel.""That's why I'm here, aren't I?""What do you mean?""For you to show me, Dream--just how you feel."---A collection of my favorite dnf/ dreamnotfound tropes in one story. No smut until after chapter 1.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 132





	All My Favorite Tropes

**Author's Note:**

> Yes yes, the first chapter is rushed, but I will edit it after I release better ones. That may seem arcane and unorthodox in comparison to other writers, but this work is just practice and expression. That and I hate first chapters /j
> 
> Don't talk to the CCs about this fic. If they state they are uncomfortable with explicit content about them, I'll take this down. 
> 
> Don't expect my magnum opus, but don't necessarily expect my worst either ;)

“I posted it.” Dream confirmed. He watched hundreds of likes swarm the post, and he listened to George on the other end of Discord, in disbelief. His friend thought he was joking or that he was exciting twitter, all for it to be a prank. He had this tendency to get people’s hopes up and eventually contribute to his fan base’s trust issues. It was all in light fun, but it made Dream’s post all the more startling.

“You’re kidding.” Dream saw on stream that George slighted his head forward and stopped his character’s movement.

Dream toyed with him, “Yeah. I was joking. I didn’t post it.”

George squinted a little as he returned to the game. Relief settled on his shoulders, but anticipation--or perhaps suspicion--were laced in his brows and cheeks. He was so expressive it made Dream’s heart soar.

Silence ensued.

“KIDDING! I posted it, but I am deleting it in five, four…” He hopped to Twitter upon seeing myriads of ‘I got the pic’ or ‘omg he looks so cute’ flooding the chat en masse. George stammered, and Dream fell into an uncontrollable fit of wheezing. He saw that George was shaking his head, and it had fallen to the side, into one hand. There was no doubt that he read the chat too or that their affirmations had his imagination laden with the soon-to-be infamous photo.

He muttered once, and then restated louder, “Why would you do that?” It did nothing to fuel Dream’s incorrigible laughter, which soon infected George to do the same. He was less laughing out of amusement but rather astonishment.

Dream’s words were light in response, “Oh, it was so funny.” Golden triumph flourished in his lungs. It turned rosy when he saw that his best friend wore a hidden smile, only a little less obvious than in the pictures. He looked back in his photo gallery and observed how George’s smile carried from the depth of his eyes to the flush on his collarbone, and it hit the other with a star’s heat.

✵ ✵ ✵

One week ago, Dream raced to his desk as the Discord ringtone resonated through his house. _This was it_. His chair leaned and settled with a tut when he threw himself down. He entered his passcode, and seconds after, George’s face appeared on video.

He sparkled with interest, “George you said it came in?”

“Yes,” He affirmed, and he showed off the packaging. He set it on his lap, hidden from the camera, and Dream on the other end raised his head as if it would make a difference. There was the shuffling of cardboard and the ripping of tape. George paused, and he let out a sardonic smile followed by a laugh.

His voice went low, and he finally looked up, “Sorry to keep you waiting, Dream, but I need to get scissors.”

“Christ, George, I thought you were going to say that this was the wrong package.”

His friend got up from his seat, and judging by how his dropped headset barely made a sound, his mic was muted. George’s absence left Dream to prepare and assess his thoughts.

He has had a crush on his best friend for a long time. He could not remember when it started for the life of him, but he woke up one day and thought _damn. He has my heart._

Was it even a surprise, with how patient he was? Dream loved the depth of his laugh and the comfort he would bring him. Whenever he was hurting or needed assurance, he would go to George. He always understood the atmosphere, knowing when to play along with Dream’s jokes. Even though he was known for his humor and fun, he was equally skilled in gaming. This was evident in Minecraft Championships that he actually prepped for. That was one thing Dream could never understand--how his friend seldom took things seriously. George was just as competitive as him and Sapnap, but he did nothing about it. Dream could say or do anything at all, but he never took it beyond face-value.

“Hey Dream, I’m back.” George turned his mic on, but the other was lost in thought.

It made Dream fear, but it drove him to try harder, to praise harder. Everything he meant about George, he delivered ten-fold without fail. It was subtle at first. If his friend looked cute in a suit, he would say so. When he reached a milestone, he would shower him in adoration and acclaim. So much acclaim. The subtlety held his heart with a caging grip, and he wanted to break free and flatter George beyond his wildest dreams. _He wanted him to feel something, to feel stars where he ached and grasped_. He wanted to hold him so _bad_.

“Dream? Hello? Earth to dumbass?” But what was an idiot to a star?

He sighed tiredly, “Sorry George, I got distracted.”

“Ooooh, with what?” He said so slyly, and if Dream closed his eyes, he could hear the honey trickling off his tongue. The hearth of his soul was elated with ethereal fire, and he failed to answer in time.

George’s voice, now ebbed with worry, spoke with a cotton-candy softness, “Hey, we can stop if you’d like. You’re tired, and I can wait ‘till tomorrow to show you.”

“If anything, George, you should be getting to it. I am not waiting a moment longer to see you dressed in _luxuriously soft_ Dream merch,” he chuckled out breathlessly. Dream added, “and now would be the worst times to unsync our sleep-schedule.” Did he even remember that he would be visiting in less than a month?

“Oh come on, Dream.” He raised a brow, awaiting a response to his mocking. All the while, he used the scissors to cut the tape. He effortlessly tore open the box.

Dream remained silent.

“Okay Geez, sorry that you’re so desperate to see me in an…” He held the box at an angle and read, “XL Dream Smile Fleece Hoodie, Black.” A smile graced Dream’s lips when George continued to prolong his fate.

“Can you blame me?”

He lifted the bottom fabric of his current hoodie without much thought, and Dream’s breath caught in his throat. It was released when George revealed that he was wearing an undershirt. It only stuttered again. George’s shirt rode up his side, exposing pale skin that Dream was desperate to hold, to kiss. He mentally dragged himself from the clouds when his mind drifted to bruising. It was a sliver of skin, what was he getting so excited for?

Maybe it was how careless George was to brush his vulnerability off, or how the freckles on the one side of his face was overshadowed with a blush. Most of all, he was slow, meticulous, _teasing_.

The tension was broken by laughter that sounded like chimes in the wind, “Enjoy the show, Dream?”

He scoffed, “You wish! I just want to see you.” As if on cue, his friend forced the hoodie down his shoulders and sides, leaving Dream winded.

George’s confidence as he looked into the camera; the lack of care and recklessness he felt around Dream. He knew that if he were to fall, Dream would catch him.

Dream wanted to die and live for George all at once. Seeing George guard his chest with a part of Dream--with his _trust_ \--did it for him. He thought he might book a plane ticket a week sooner if he looked at him the way he did a second longer. Dream was sensitive in this sense; it only ever took him one look, one word, to drive him off the edge.

“God, Georgie, I don’t know what to say.” He looked with enough contentment to rival an astronaut gazing at the moon. George was that far from his reach.

The nickname slipped off his tongue involuntarily before he could comprehend what happened. His friend scoffed at him dryly, telling him all he needed to know.

✵ ✵ ✵

George angled his camera properly, and climbed on the bed. He stood, displaying the sheer enormity of the hoodie in all its glory. Again, Dream’s heart dropped a mile.

The sleeves extended past his fingers and waist, hanging loosely. The sweater paws accentuated his short height, even if George was technically average. Dream scoured for his phone immediately, shouting out, “DON’T MOVE!” Thoughts about how his phone never seemed close enough swarmed his mind.

George’s laugh echoed from the other end of the screen, and when he returned with his camera, he was making small hops on his bed. He was so ecstatic it made Dream’s heart ooze with ripe bliss. He twirled, flopped his arms, and reveled in bewilderment at how large the hoodie felt around him. He settled finally, flipping the hood over his head.

Dream could barely track the back-and-forth talk between them; it was small and tender. The way his thoughts hollowed into a George-shape whenever they talked drove him wild. If his friend were standing before him, he would drift one arm up and under the hoodie, until he touched his chest. He would pull at the hood on his head and expose his neck. His mind raced and raced while he absentmindedly took hundreds of pictures on his computer. He grabbed his phone to steal some extra.

“Are… are you taking photos of me?” The other puffed air amusedly.

Dream stopped in his tracks, finally turning his phone on silent. He must have left the ringer on, allowing George to hear the shutter. He knew that Dream took secret pictures of him during his streams or whenever he got the chance. George did not think much of it, only as much as he did with any other strangely affectionate thing Dream did.

Now that he thought about it, he did want George to know. There was a chance that if he heard that what he was doing was right, he would repeat it. He flipped the volume switch on, taking pictures with more intent.

George _posed_. Dream was overtaken with a powerful wheeze, reducing him to a pool of ardor melting in his chair. He slouched back, held his camera forward, and continued snapping shots. Soon his friend joined him, doubling over in laughter and mirthful endearment.

“Okay but at least _tell_ me what you think beyond simple statements like ‘it’s black’ or ‘wow, the smile printed nicely!”

“Well, it definitely is an XL! And you look so small…” Dream trailed off, holding his true thoughts behind confining walls of silence.

“No, you idiot,” George rolled his eyes and focused into the camera, “tell me how you _feel_.”

Dream’s eyes shot up from his phone.

**Author's Note:**

> You may be wondering, "Monarch, where's the smut?" I just wanted to get this stupid expository chapter out of the way. Next chapters will be over 2k words and have better quality, especially as we get deeper into the relationship. 
> 
> If this does well, I might start asking for constructive criticism. 
> 
> If @dnffanficrecs on Twitter is reading this and planning on making a recommendation, hold off until I publish chapter 3, because by then I'll have a Twitter account. ;))


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